After a tearful farewell to my loved ones, I boarded a plane to Keflavík and from there got on a coach to Reykjavík. With a unexpected embrace from my somewhat hippyish landlady, I was promptly told that the room I was renting was unavailable as it was still occupied.
No need to worry though, for I could stay in her house until tomorrow when it would become available again. Phew.
Still, this unanticipated change of plans threw me somewhat and I have felt unsettled ever since, to the point of thinking a couple of times that maybe this is all a bit of a mistake and I have no idea what I’m doing. I’m winging it, and I’ve never done that before. Also, I have a very lovely boyfriend at home, a supportive (and forgiving) family, and friends that will get me through anything. Why am I here?
And that’s when it hit me. Why am I here? Because I’m pushing myself, getting out of my comfort zone, figuring out what I truly want from life back home. Also, it’s going to make me appreciate that lovely boyfriend and supportive family and amazing friends even more. I know why I’m here deep down, even if not many other people understand.
I’m here for an experience, I want to one day sit down and say I did something that petrified me because what petrifies me even more is never feeling this uncertain and lost again. I may realise travelling is not for me, but at least I did it. I did something instead of thinking wistfully about it. It’s not a brave or original plan, but I just ate lentil soup with a woman I’ve only known for a few hours and that’s the craziest thing I’ve done in a long time. Sad, isn’t it?
Then again I do miss watching TV in my pants with a glass of lime cordial.